How Did We End Up Here?
by Llmav
Summary: In which Austin and Ally meet at a party and spend the night together.


**A/N; I have never, ever, EVER written anything in first person before.**

**This is pretty AU, as Austin most likely would not have a vocabulary like he does in here. **

**But whatever. **

**It was fun to write. I've never lived in Austin's head before. I might do it again sometime. **

**It was weird and different and entertaining.**

**Oh, and this is kind of mostly smut. **

**Sort of. **

**Well, I don't know. **

**It's kind of cute, too, I think. **

**It was inspired by "End up here" by 5sos, if that wasn't clear from the title.**

**I added a few things, though, so it's not necessarily a song fic.**

**If nobody catches the _numerous_ song references in here, I'll be really disappointed. **

**Please let me know what you guys think. **

I wasn't looking forward to it.

At all.

But then again, I wasn't necessarily looking forward to a whole lot of things nowadays.

Except for maybe sleeping.

Sleeping and pancakes.

Fuck, I really wanted some pancakes.

With syrup.

Extra syrup.

God knew I could use something sweet in my life.

I was pretty sure that I could eat pancakes several times per day, for years, and not grow tired of it.

I wish I could say the same thing about girls.

Dez, my best friend for forever as well as quirky, self-proclaimed sidekick, had made me a bet once.

Well, more than once, but once about pancake eating.

I had had to eat pancakes three times a day for two weeks straight to win said bet, and Dez were still wearing silly pants as a result of losing it, but then again, wearing ridiculous pants was kind of his thing, anyways.

I was pretty sure he was kind of happy about having an excuse to wear them every day.

And he did.

He was a man of his word.

And a very good friend.

For one of my most recent birthdays, he had tried making me beer pancakes, as he knew I considered that to be the best of two worlds combined.

It hadn't really worked out, it never really did, but I truly appreciated the effort.

He was simply the best.

Damn, my mouth was watering at the simple _thought_ of those small delicious circles of flavor heaven.

Not the beer ones.

Ah, just imagine being cooped up in bed with a fresh stack, letting the smell of them tickle your nose, while watching the latest Zalien movie...

Mmmmmmmm.

_Fuck_, I was pathetic and my life was boring.

All I really wanted to do was make it big, spend my life traveling and performing, and then live long and comfortably with my soulmate that I was yet to find, and that was it.

Apparently life wasn't completely on board with that plan, though.

At least not yet.

So for the time being, I was working part-time in my parents' mattress store, while playing random gigs around the city.

Working there was about as much fun as providing full-body massages to naked elderly men. Pro bono.

There were days when I felt my job _there_ was almost pro bono, too.

It had its upsides too, though.

For one, it was slow paced. It gave me plenty of time to write lyrics in my journal, or call Dez to talk about his latest invention or food recipes, or daydream about when I would make it big.

I may or may not have rehearsed my latest dance routines in the large-sized mirrors in the big guest bathroom numerous times.

Said slow pace also allowed for other _activities_.

Back when Cassidy was the flavor of the month, she would sneak away from the diner and join me for some quick, lunch time make-out sessions at the back of the usually empty store.

It wasn't as if anybody shopped for _mattresses_ on their lunch break, anyways.

Ah, _Cassidy_.

I missed her as much as you miss a bad cold, namely not at all.

She was a bitch, and sugarcoating it wouldn't change that fact.

But those make-out sessions were sweet, even if she wasn't.

Ah, memories...

The sound of Dez accidentally walking into a light post snapped me back into present time.

We were rapidly walking down the unevenly paved sidewalk, heading towards yet another sketchy party that Dez had somehow convinced me to tag along to.

He was quite a party animal, especially considering that he didn't drink.

Not that he needed to.

That kid was high on life.

He had called me, speaking excitedly about said party, while keeping me away from making love to the current love of my life (my bed).

I was hesitant at first. I usually was.

"I don't know Dez, I'm not even dressed."

"Come as you are".

"Ok, what time? I need to take a shower."

"Take your time, hurry up."

That made no sense, but that wasn't anything new.

I usually ended up more confused after speaking to Dez than I had been before doing so.

"Ok, ok. I'll come."

He made a weird sound, presumably one out of happiness, although it kind of sounded like a shrieking dolphin.

"Don't be late."

And with that, he had hang up.

And now there we were, walking, because we were all too broke or perhaps too cheap to pay for a cab, and as I was planning on getting wasted, driving wasn't an option.

And I didn't trust any of the other two in my current company to operate a car, at least not with myself in it, even under the most sober of conditions.

Dez and Carrie were walking in front of me, Des rubbing his forehead as they were lost in conversation, babbling away while their fingers intertwined and their foot steps fell into a matching rhythm.

They were just so _ahhhhh_...fine, they were cute.

I couldn't deny that I kind of wanted that.

And Dez so, so deserved that.

Other people may often believe that he wasn't exactly the brightest crayon in the box, although it often looked like he had colored his clothes with all of them, but I knew that he was the brightest of them all.

I loved him more than I loved pancakes.

I was walking behind them, because I was nowhere near as excited to get to where we were going as they were.

I still missed my bed.

And in was still kind of mad at Carrie for saying that my jeans were too tight.

So much for coming as you are.

After a couple of minutes, it seemed as if the tall love birds realized that they were not just lost in conversation, but actually physically lost, as well, as they made a sharp turn and started walking at an equally fast pace in the opposite direction.

I shook my head.

If Carrie was the GPS we would get there in a couple of weeks.

At the earliest.

Not that I really cared.

I was pretty certain that the fast-paced, late walk was going to be the best part of the night, anyways.

It usually was.

They finally stopped in front of a tallish building, that was in a desperate need of a new paint job and quite possibly an extermination one as well.

I wasn't surprised. It looked similar to most of the other places that Dez had dragged me along to over the last few months. He said that it was in my best interest, that it was important for me to make connections for my all but thriving music career, but I was yet to make any of those said 'connections'.

The only thing I usually ended up with was a bad hang-over.

The stairway was narrow and steep, and smelled like sweat and possibly old urine, but I tried not to think about it as I climbed it while holding my breath.

I made it almost all the way to the top floor before needing to breath.

Carrie rang the doorbell, and absolutely nobody came to let us in, so after a minute she reached for the handle and the door flew open, and we entered.

The revealed hallway was small and kind of messy, and pretty much exactly what I had expected.

It was warm, and loud, and some very questionable music was ringing out of the living room speakers.

We made our way into the mess of a place, my regrets about tagging along multiplying by the second.

Nobody greeted us, but I started to become more offended over their bad taste in music than their lack of hosting skills.

What even was that? A dying cat? Dez could sing better than that.

And Dez was _not_ a singer.

I lingered in the hallway as I opened the first of the cheep beer I had brought, because despite how glamorous "_struggling_ _artist_" might sound, it didn't pay nearly enough to maintain a gourmet drinking habit.

Or gourmet anything, for that matter.

I sighed as the all but tasty beverage entered my throat.

Getting drunk was nothing new. In fact, it was starting to get old.

I leaned against the walls, chugging the beer that was worth every penny I had spent on it, which coincidentally weren't many, while scanning the crowd and quietly praying that I wouldn't recognize anyone.

There was truly nobody that I wanted to see other than the couple that I had arrived with.

I was ripped away from my perfect loneliness when I heard a small shrieking sound, a sound that reminded me of something out of a bad horror movie, as someone wrapped their arms around my neck and I was instantly suffocating, although maybe not physically.

It was Carrie's sister.

Piper.

Of course.

I should have known.

I tried to blend into the wall, tried to disappear, tried to become invisible, but clearly very unsuccessfully so, as her arms tightened even further around me.

Fuck.

If only I could teleport myself out of there.

Why couldn't Dez's inventions be more successful?

It was funny how Carrie had managed to forget to mention that her sister was going to be there, though.

Or maybe not.

I was pretty sure that Carrie still had some far-fetched hope that her older sister and I would work it out.

Oh, she was a work-out, alright. And not a good one. She left me with a pain in the ass.

She continued to keep her arms firmly wrapped around my neck, as if it belonged to her or something.

It didn't.

It never had.

I had let her lick it, and perhaps a few other parts of mine, a few times, but that was about it.

Perhaps there had been a few dates too, I was trying hard not to remember.

Fine.

I _guess_ she could be considered a chapter in the book of my life.

A short one.

A closed one.

A chapter that I never, ever wanted to read again.

Reading really wasn't my thing, anyways.

She was pretty, don't get me wrong. And she _could_ be nice, too.

But I just...how could I explain it?

Piper was like a nice house, located next to a quiet, two-way street, and I could drive by whenever I pleased, park outside for a couple of hours and then take off.

It was nice.

But then she changed, and the street changed, into a one way one, and I couldn't get out, and I couldn't turn around, so I kept on driving until I hit a round-about.

And then I got stuck in said round-about, going around and around, and it was the same story over and over and the landscape never changed and yeah...

I was getting dizzy just thinking about that ride. And not in a good way.

I was starting to feel nauseous from motion sickness.

Or maybe it was just the cheap beer.

I was not so subtly trying to remove her arms from my shoulders, when I saw the front door opening and someone quickly entered, slamming the old door shut behind her.

I had no clue as to who she was.

All I knew was that she was hot as hell, and most likely way too cool.

For me, at least.

I was watching her every move, her brown curls bouncing around her pretty face when she moved, the perfectly imperfect curls almost begging to be messed with, caressed, pulled on...

Preferably so with my dick buried deep inside of her, but whatever.

It seemed as if she was alone, and as she looked around, I couldn't determine if she was looking for or trying to avoid someone.

I felt an instant connection.

And then she started walking, and she was coming this way, and I was almost cumming, too, in my jeans that perhaps _were_ a bit too tight, after all.

Or at least _now_ they were.

The deadweight around my neck was heavier than ever, as Piper was still hanging onto my shoulder as if her legs were freaking amputated, her level of drunkenness clearly too high and I was starting to feel very, very low.

_She_ smiled at me, a polite smile, the type of smile you offer to a complete stranger when passing by them in a narrow hallway, and I had to move to allow her to pass me by, by, by.

As I moved, Piper moved with me, as if she was one of those lifeless stuffed animals, with long arms and Velcro hands that you sometimes attempt to win for your girlfriend at the crappy local fairs.

I was _never_ going to get one of those for Piper.

She just hadn't completely realized that yet.

My face must have been reflecting my feelings, because _she_ looked at me with a small, sympathetic smile as she walked by.

"Looks like you've got your arms full." I couldn't tell if she meant it literally or not, although it really didn't matter, but she sounded caring, almost apologetic.

Like she understood me.

And then she walked away, into the too packed living room, and I continued to check her out over Piper's shoulder until I lost sight of her in the crowd.

Crap.

I needed to follow her more than I needed to breath, but first I needed to get rid of Piper. So that I _could_ breath.

I started to walk, almost dragging Piper along with me while she was loudly and drunkenly professing her never-ending love for me in my ear, which only motivated me to move faster.

I spotted Carrie over in a corner, and I almost ran there, somehow managing to drop off the drunk blonde with her much more sober sister. Carrie didn't drink, either, although it was hard to tell sometimes as she acted as if she was drunk most of the time.

I'm pretty sure she was shooting mental darts into my back as I walked away from them, and I felt a bit bad but then again I didn't.

I loved Carrie, but it _was_ her sister.

And _I_ had a mission.

I needed to find _her_.

It couldn't be that hard, it wasn't exactly 'Where's Waldo', the apartment only had a few rooms, and yet, I felt oddly relived when I saw her again, standing close to one of the large and not entirely clean windows.

And then I had no clue of what to do.

So I stalled, standing a few feet away, observing her in my peripheral vision while pretending to inspect the very interesting rug on the floor.

It was green. Dirty. No pattern. As interesting as it comes, in other words.

She was talking to some asshat that was clearly already fucking her in his head.

Ah. Every inch of her was perfect, from the bottom to the top.

I could see him mentally drooling.

I would know, because I was too.

But I wasn't interested in a three-way.

Unless it involved me, her and the love of my life (my bed).

A few minutes passed, and as I was not making any progress on approaching her, it became clear to me that I needed Dez's help.

I spotted him at the back of the room, alone as Carrie was probably still taking care of Piper, and I nodded slightly once our eyes met.

That was all it took.

That was _usually_ all it took.

Over the years, we had developed an almost telepathic, non-verbal communication system, that had turned out to be both surprisingly useful and effective.

Dez was a good wingman, maybe not in the usual sense, but he was extremely creative when it came to finding ways to help me out.

Within five minutes, Dez had spilled a cup of someone else's beer over said asshat, completely and accidentally on purpose, and as the now soaked loser made his way towards the bathroom, the only bathroom, the bathroom with the very, very, _very_ long line, she turned to me and smiled.

I fought back my initial instinct to turn around to see if there was someone else she was looking at, but as I was the only one currently and awkwardly standing there, most likely a bit too close to her, I figured that that heavenly smile was meant for me.

And I somehow just knew that _she_ knew that Dez's stunt wasn't a accident.

She didn't look like she minded, though.

How did we end up talking in the first place?

I'm not sure, as I was about three-quarter finished with the cheap beers at that point.

I'm pretty sure she said something first, but I couldn't really hear her, although I think she said that she liked my Cobain shirt.

"_What_?" I was almost screaming, because the pathetic noise that apparently was being passed off as music was still ringing too loudly from the now nearby speakers.

She leaned in to my ear. "Nice _shirt_." She sounded like she really didn't mean it at all.

I looked down, at the t-shirt that was semi-wrinkled, perhaps a bit tight, and one of my absolute favorites.

She was clearly a fan of sarcasm, and not a fan of what should universally be considered good music taste.

I would like to say that I was wearing the beat up t-shirt to look hip.

Or cool.

But the simple truth was that I had hardly had enough time to shower, yet alone spend any time whatsoever thinking about what I should wear to a party that I had no desire of attending in the first place.

So I had done what anyone would do.

I had simply grabbed what was on top of the pile in the overstuffed laundry basket in my too small yet too expensive apartment.

"Thanks." I didn't know what else to say. For some reason, I was almost tongue-tied around her, my brain overheating while my mouth felt numb.

"I thought grunge died in the 90s." I could tell that she was teasing me.

I liked it.

I felt my speaking ability slowly returning.

"No, that was just him." I pointed to said shirt, and she laughed.

I stalled for a second, as I suddenly was having short term amnesia in regards to how to greet someone.

Somehow, I wasn't sure that she would know the _Whaddup_ handshake that me and Dez had perfected to a tee.

Man, that was a good handshake.

Maybe I could teach it to her.

Or not.

Perhaps another time.

"I'm Austin." I was half-screaming, as necessary.

"Trouble." She was too.

I extended my hand and she didn't take it, but before I could react (or before my _brain_ could, my _dick_ was already reacting in all sorts of ways), she leaned in and kissed my cheek, her soft lips lingering a second on my half-decently shaven cheek, and I smelled her.

I suddenly wished that we were in a reverse position, where _my_ lips would be on _her_ cheek instead.

A different cheek, though.

Oh, she smelled _good_.

Was that perfume? I would bet Dez's pants that that was just _her. _

Surprisingly, I didn't miss a beat.

Well, maybe not _that_ surprisingly.

I _was_ an aspiring musician, after all.

"So, what kind of _Trouble_ can you get me into?"

"It's more like what _you_ can get into _me_, you know?" Oh, she was a tease, alright.

Funny how I instantly missed my bed even more, yet I was oddly no longer tired.

She smiled. I think it was flirtatious. It did things to me.

And those eyes.

They were big.

Brown.

A bit mischievous, a little teasing, and a lot beautiful.

And then I spilled my beer on her.

Accidentally _not_ on purpose this time.

Some of the goldish liquid splattered across her tanned neck, soon running in a small river in under her tight shirt, and I felt bad.

I wasn't sure of what to do, and I was drunk and horny and was having problems with words, so naturally, I leaned down and licked it up.

Funny how the beer suddenly tasted like grade A Champagne, and her skin was the sweet strawberry that came served along with it.

On, I wanted to eat her, alright.

She looked at me in surprise, but not in disapproval, as she reached for my arm, soon wiping the rest of the spilled liquid off with the three-quarter sleeve of my t-shirt.

"There. Now it smells like beer and teen spirit."

She laughed, loudly, and the fact that she was self-confident, or perhaps just dorky, enough to laugh at her own jokes made me want to take her hard up against the living room wall.

But instead, I offered her a beer from the now almost empty pack, and she accepted.

That was probably my first clue.

That she was crazy, that is.

Nobody in their right mind would drink that.

She hit my bottle with hers in a small cheer, and I was hard.

Possibly from the simple fact that she was speaking to me.

Or that she was breathing.

Either one would work as an explanation.

It was getting hot in there, for so many different reasons, and as I saw Piper approaching us, I pulled Trouble out of there and onto the very small, nearby balcony.

To breath, to think, to be _alone_.

The night was dark both above and below us, my heart still making funny du-dunking noises and I was instantly grateful that the balcony was so tiny that it could hardly fit the two of us, yet alone anyone else.

"So Trouble, what's your real name?" I was pretty sure that my breath was tickling her neck.

The taste of her skin was still tickling my taste buds.

_She_ extended her hand this time around, while laughing.

"I'm Ally."

That made sense.

It was short and pretty, just like her.

We spent a few minutes talking, and I quickly realized that we actually had quite a few things in common.

She worked for her dad, as well, in a music store (I had to admit I was a bit or maybe a lot jealous), while taking classes at the nearby college.

She loved music.

And our names started with the same letter.

Come on now.

What were the chances of _that_ happening?

We shared another beer that I had grabbed before she turned to me and smiled.

"I think it's time for me to go home."

I nodded, although I was screaming NO at the top of my lungs. Internally.

"Bye Austin, it was so very nice to meet you."

She gave me a quick hug, that I almost didn't get the chance to return before it was already over.

Hold on.

That was _it_?

I was frozen, unsure of what to do, and it felt weird.

_Trust_ me, I had flirted with girls before, I had gone home with girls before, I had fucked girls before, and I usually knew _exactly_ what to do.

But there was one small but significant difference with this one.

I kind of liked her, and for some reason, it made me insecure, but I still hoped she would be coming back for more.

She turned around, not completely easily so due to the limited space, as she approached the door.

"Do you want to share a cab?"

I nodded.

Repeatedly.

I did.

And there were other things I wanted to share with her, as well.

Like my cum.

I quickly found and said bye to Dez, who looked happy and high-fived me before he started rambling on in my ear. I couldn't catch it all, but it was something about _me_ being a six while _she_ was a ten, and although I had never been very good at math (or geography, for that matter, but that's a different story), even _I_ knew that it didn't quite add up.

I hugged him and left, sneaking out before Piper could see us.

We both almost ran down the funky stairway, gasping for air as we exited the all but pleasant place, looking at each other and almost laughing before settling on a less rapid walking pace.

I took another deep breath.

It was nice outside.

Almost as if she could read my thoughts, she turned to me.

"Do you mind if we walk instead? My place is only a few minutes away."

I didn't mind. At all.

So, we were walking, back to her place, when she turned to me with a serious face.

"So, what do you _really_ want to do with your life?"

I loved that question. It was as if she _knew_ that I was nowhere near living my dream.

But that I still had one.

That question was easy, though.

"Sing. Dance. Perform. Record videos. Make people know who I am."

She smiled. Big. "So, you want to become an _overnight_ _internet_ _sensation_?"

I shrugged. "Something like that. But _anything_ involving music would do."

Her face broke out into an even bigger smile. I was getting bigger, too.

"Ahhhh, for me too. Guess we have the same dream."

I doubted that. Unless her dream was to fuck herself all night long.

She started singing, a familiar tune, something about living on a prayer, and she was unquestionably the answer to mine, as her beautiful voice was bouncing off the low buildings in the quiet, late night neighborhood.

"Ah, I _love_ that song." She started over again.

We continued to walk, and I was pretty sure that we're halfway there, when she grabbed my hand.

_"Take my hand and we'll make it I swear..."_

She was swinging our now joined hands back and forth as she continued to sing.

Her hand was small but fit perfect in mine.

Like two different sized puzzle pieces.

Not like we were meant to be, or anything.

_That_ would be cheesy, and my singing coach had advised me to stay away from dairy products.

Her song turned into a duet by the time we approached a small apartment complex.

I stalled for a second.

Maybe she wouldn't ask me to come up with her.

6 and 10 and not adding up and all of that.

Although I knew, on a good day, I _could_ be an 8.

But still.

So I was preparing myself for disappointment while hoping for fulfillment.

And then we were by her door, and my heart was beating hard, as if it was made up on her.

"What's your favorite breakfast?" She looked at me with a neutral face, and I couldn't exactly decide what emotion was reflected I her voice.

"Pancakes." Little did she know that that was my favorite _any_-time meal. "Why?"

She shrugged. "I just wanted to know what I should serve you in the morning."

And then I kissed her, because come on, if _that_ wasn't an invite to do so, I don't know what would be.

My much larger body was pressing hers against the door as she was pulling on my long whistle necklace, her lips eagerly pressing into mine, my beer breath and her somehow much sweeter one interacting, mixing, creating some sort of intoxicating cocktail that I wanted to drink forever.

I was only allowed to enjoy it for a few minutes, though, before a seemingly drunk couple walked by and whistled, and she moved away and opened the door.

"Sorry, there's no elevator." I was sorry, too, as I kind of wanted to fuck her in one.

She led me towards the stairs, and I was praying that she didn't live on the top floor, not because I minded the exercise, but because I wasn't completely sure I could control myself long enough to make it there without fucking her senseless against the concrete steps.

She walked in front of me, and although it was pretty clear that she was probably a size two, she had all the right junk in all the right places.

That _ass_.

Her stairway smelled good, but I was now holding my breath for other reasons.

She was on the second floor.

She opened her door and it hadn't even closed completely behind us before I had her pinned against her light-colored (maybe yellow?) wall.

I'm not sure what followed could be described as kissing.

It was more like I assaulted her mouth.

There was hair pulling. And tongue wrestling. And grunting. And sloppy, wet sounds. And feelings of pure pleasure.

I hadn't even really noticed that she was wearing a skirt until that point. It came in handy, though, as I pulled it up, massaging the inside of her soft thighs as my tongue was massaging her entire mouth, while I continued, almost by no will of my own, to press my still jean-covered, hard dick into her bare thigh.

I broke the (let's call it) kiss, letting my tongue trail down her neck, and I didn't even remove her underwear, but simply pulled them to the side, before I let a finger slide into her a couple of times, her moans driving me absolutely insane and her wetness almost fucking killing me as I continued to finger-fuck her up against the wall.

She unzipped my jeans while my digits were still in her, pulling them down, wigglingly so due to mentioned tightness, my dick greeting her through my boxers and she smiled as she palmed me, pressing her hand into my hard-on repeatedly before pulling them down, leaving me naked apart from my old (-school) shirt.

She grabbed me, and either her hand was small or my dick was big, because I filled her whole hand and then some.

She pumped me a few times, then letting her thumb run over the head of my dick, and I was almost sure I was going to cum on the spot.

So I did what _any_ gentleman would do.

I took her up against her hallway wall.

Fuck, I was surprised I had made it that far.

Had it been completely up to _me_, I would have probably taken her back at the party, in the crowded living room for anyone and everyone to see.

I'm pretty sure I screamed out loud as I pushed my way too hard dick into her, her heels pushing into my back as I lifted her up and wrapped her legs around my waist, soon pumping her hard, maybe a bit roughly, her body moving up against the wall every time I hit her and _holy_ _fucking_ _shit_, my jeans and boxers weren't the only things that were tight.

_"Your pussy is so fucking wet, I want to drink you."_

_"You're so fucking tight, I'm going to fuck you all night long."_

_"I want to fill you with my cum."_

I continued to spit out some well-chosen obscenities while I thoroughly enjoyed her overly soaked pussy.

I get a bit voicy when I'm drunk. So sue me.

I suddenly became aware that she was still fully dressed, and it bothered me, so I lifted her up, and started to walk, my cock still deep within her, trying to find my way to her bedroom without breaking our very intense 'kiss'.

I just _needed_ to see her completely naked.

I wanted _all_ of her slightly sweaty skin rubbed up against mine.

I kicked her bedroom door completely open, then almost running towards her king-sized (trust me, I would know) bed, and I reluctantly pulled myself out of her before laying her down on it, myself still standing next to it.

I threw of my shirt, leaving me completely naked in all my glory, as Kurt was swimming with the fishes (and soon, her skirt and underwear joined him) on the bottom of her bedroom floor.

I was still standing next to the bed, reaching for her shirt, leaving _her_ in nothing but her bra and _me_ in nothing but a state of rock hardness.

I laid down, on top of her, covering her, my mouth immediately attaching to hers, and within a few seconds, her bare breasts were rubbing up against mine.

I may not be the smartest guy around, but I _did_ know my way around a bra.

Her nipples were hard, begging for me to play with them, so I did, letting the solid little buds play peek-a-boo with my fingers before sliding them, one at a time, into my wet mouth, my fingers simultaneously finding _her_ wet spot, diving into her, over and over, until she was practically begging for me to take her again.

Or maybe continue to take her.

Whatever.

So I did.

She was, if possible, even wetter this time around, and my cock was twitching uncontrollably almost immediately, and although my intention had been to restart semi-slow, I couldn't help myself from fucking her hard and fast.

She was scratching me, almost violently so, leaving trails of pleasurably pain down my back, my dick rubbing up against her with each thrust and her moans growing increasingly louder each time I slammed myself back into her.

I continued, as I wouldn't have been able to stop even if I _had_ wanted to, massaging her insides in a

I felt her cum, pulling on my hair while doing so, her breath coming out in small spasms and her pussy squeezing me in similar spasms, hugging me even tighter, and I let go, deep inside of her, filling her with my cum in a few disorganized thrusts.

And then we both fell asleep, underneath the same sky, to the beat of our hearts at the same time.

...

It was morning.

That much I knew.

That was pretty much _everything_ I knew, though.

My head was heavy, and filled with questions, so many questions, because all I could think of when I woke up next to her was _how_.

How did we end up here?

It was probably early, as she was sleeping, and I was oddly grateful that she was still there.

Then I realized that we were at her place.

And then I was oddly happy that _I_ was still there.

That was a first. At least in a while.

The only damper on my good mood was her incredibly uncomfortable mattress.

She should really get a new one.

I knew someone who could help her pick one out.

I got up to use the bathroom, while realizing that I was only wearing my boxers, the early morning sun rays peeking in through her bedroom window hitting my bare chest as I made my way.

I entered, as my head was spinning, and I was pressed against the wall, because otherwise I may not have been standing, while I hesitantly observed myself in the mirror.

I looked tired but half-decent, despite or maybe due to the sex hair that for once had good reason for its name, and the memory of her running her fingers through my hair made me hard on the spot.

Ah.

I splashed some water on my face, then stole some of her mouth wash, before I exited, ready to wake her up and possibly kick-start round two.

I may have been slightly hang-over, but as I was pretty sure that she was my drug and cure all in one , I was going for another shot.

I quickly came to see that she was no longer sleeping, but she was spread out on the bed, propped up on her pillows, her tanned, bare legs seeming fucking mile-long despite her shortness, and she had a small smile on her face.

She wasn't wearing much, but something familiar.

"Nice shirt."

I, in difference from her the previous night, was _not_ being sarcastic.

She wore it better than I ever had.

"Excuse me, I need to freshen up."

She rose, and the shirt rode up ever so slightly as she walked by me, and I got a sneak peek of her lace underwear before she disappeared from my view.

She exited the bathroom maybe a minute later, I really didn't know as I had lost track of time where I were, stuck in the exact same spot as when she had left.

She smiled as she walked up to me, standing on her tiptoes, letting her now minty-breath land on my face before she softly pressed her lips against mine.

"Good morning."

It was, indeed.

"Let's make some breakfast." She nodded in the direction of where I assumed the kitchen was located, and I followed behind her like an obedient servant.

I was willing to serve her, alright.

I wasn't sure that she wanted meat for breakfast, though.

She started to set out a familiar set of ingredients.

Eggs, flour, milk...

My heart almost stopped.

Was this deity really going to make _pancakes_?

She smiled as our eyes met, nodding slightly as to answer my unspoken question.

"Here, let me help you." I grabbed the small whisk she was holding.

"Really?" She didn't sound like she believed me.

"I'm really good at making pancakes." I was.

"As I recall, that's not the _only_ thing you're very good at." She was smirking.

And there it was. The throbbing hard-on that I was working hard on at, if not so much get rid off, at least keep under somewhat control.

We worked together, side by side, silently so, and I was happy to see that our sexual tension wasn't just a product of too much drinking, but actually probably even more intense under sober conditions.

Fuck, she was hot.

A couple of minutes passed, and she was now observing me from the close-by, high bar stool, as I finished cooking our breakfast on the small stove top.

"Here, try them." I grabbed one of the circles of mouth orgasms, walking over towards her, breaking off a piece and sticking it between her lips.

She licked my finger in the process, while making a humming, cum-worthy sound.

"Delicious. But we need syrup."

I opened the fridge and found what I was looking for, returning it to her along with the two full plates of pancakes, sitting down on the chair next to her.

We both devoured the pancakes, and the syrup, in silence, and I had finished them all before I turned to look at her.

She was a beautiful mess, her hair everywhere, and a few drops of syrup had mysteriously missed her mouth and was now resting on her cheek.

"You've got something right there." I pointed towards it as the sticky, goldish liquid starting to slowly slide down her face.

She laughed. "Can you hand me a napkin?"

Naturally, I shook my head and leaned down and licked it off instead, and she laughed again.

"What's up with you and licking?"

I wasn't sure. I had clearly developed some type of licking fetish over the past 10 hours or so, but it only extended to her. I wanted to lick her like a lollipop.

She didn't sound like she was complaining, though.

Good. Becuase I was suddenly in the mood to lick _other_ things, as well.

I stood up and pulled her into me, letting her taste the spilled syrup from my lips, and she hummed in what I could only think was appreciation, although I was unsure of whether it was for me or the syrup.

Maybe both. We both were, after all, sweet and delicious.

I was kissing her, licking her skin, as I lifted her up and walked over towards the nearby kitchen table, setting her down on it and pulling my shirt off over her head, and then poor Kurt was suddenly thrown on top of the kitchen counter, face down, and she was down on the kitchen table, face up, flat on her back but I was all but flat.

She was naked apart from her underwear.

I leaned down and pulled the lacy material down her body with my teeth, leaving them on the floor, then grabbing the syrup bottle, before I positioned myself between her spread-wide legs, still standing.

I let a few drops of the thick liquid hit her neck, pouring some sugar on her, ooh, in the name of love, right at the spot where I already knew my tounge could drive her absolutely insane, and then I leaned down and licked it off, slowly, savoring the taste of her and the syrup.

Talk about the best of two worlds.

She moaned and I almost came.

I needed to literally calm _down_.

And coincidentally, that's also where I was going.

I continued, making a golden, sticky trail down her breasts, sucking them clean while feeling dirty, working my way down, eating my breakfast off if her, her thighs squeezing into me from both sides of my body as I approached my end destination.

And then I licked her, her juices mixing with the syrup still lingering in my mouth, and I could no longer speak, but it was just as well as that pussy in my mouth had me loss for words.

I continued, swirling my tounge over her folds, her clit, her nails digging into my scalp as I made her cum, her back hitting the wooden table as her back arched off of it and I pushed her hips down, keeping her firm in place while she writhed in pleasure, her o-face instantly etched into my long-term memory.

I allowed her to catch her breath for a second before I pulled her towards the edge of the table, then pulling down my boxers.

And then I was in her once again.

She greeted me with a wet embrace, her feet wrapping around my ass, pushing me in even deeper and I knew I wasn't going to last, the taste of _her_ lingering on my lips and turning me on even further, and as I continued to pound her, she grabbed my hand, licking my fingers clean, moving them in and out of her mouth in a fashion that mimicked the way my dick was moving in and out of her, and I came, hard, leaving her sticky in more ways than one.

Best breakfast. Ever.

...

Naturally, I took her again in the shower.

Twice.

...

And then I had to leave.

I had to get to work.

Yet another downfall of that fucking place.

We were open on Sundays.

And every other day of the year, for that matter, including Jesus' death-day and Mary's giving-birth-day, and _each_ and _every_ day in between.

I was pretty sure that the apocalypse could be upon us, and my parents would still try to somehow make a penny out of it.

I kissed her goodbye, in a way that bordered on desperate, but only because I was.

I wasn't sure if I should or could ask for her number. I was pretty sure she was only interested in a one-night (and morning) type of deal.

I wanted to see her again, probably more than I wanted to do almost anything else, yet I was stalling.

I was ridiculously scared of rejection.

We were by her door when she reached into my pocket and grabbed my phone, quickly plugging in her number before handing it back to me with a smile. "In case you want to get into more trouble."

Oh, I did.

I closed her door behind me, hesitatingly so, as I really hoped that I wasn't closing the door on us.

My phone started beeping as I walked away from her building, trying to decide whether I should walk or hail a cab, not able to think completely straight as my head was preoccupied with her.

I knew it was ridiculous, but I was kind of hoping it would be her.

Although _she_ didn't have _my_ number.

It was Dez.

"What's up, buddy?" He sounded chipper. The bright side of not drinking.

No hang-over.

"Just leaving." Could he tell that I wasn't as chipper?

Probably not.

I never was, though.

"Oh, so you spent the _night_ with _her_?" He sounded so surprised that I started to get offended.

"Yeah. Why?"

"She's just so... far out of your league."

"Thanks buddy, it means a lot."

"Come on, you know what I mean, dude."

I didn't, so I stayed quiet as he continued to chatter away.

"You usually go for the easy, brainless type. The meaningless fuck, the easy in and out, the bam-wam-thank you ma'am. She didn't come off as _that_ type, that's all."

I was not going to bring up the fact that one of said girls was his girlfriend's sister.

I was hoping, for his sake, that Carrie wasn't around to overhear our conversation.

But he was right. She was _not_ like the girls that I usually hooked up with.

She was...funner.

Better.

"I think I kind of like her, Dez."

He screamed in my ear, loudly, and I thought about hanging up on him before he calmed down, or at least somewhat so. "Maybe she's _your_ Carrie." He sounded so excited.

That thought was ridiculous and made me too happy.

"So, did you ask her out?"

Oh. "No."

He didn't say anything, but I could still hear his disapproval through the phone line.

Dez prided himself on being the love whisperer. He was yet to give me _any_ decent advice, but I let him believe that he was helpful.

"Did you at least get her number?"

"Yeah. Should I call her?" I was really hoping he would say yes.

Because I really wanted to call her.

He didn't even answer, as if he was trying to use telepathy through the phone.

Or maybe becuae the answer was fucking obvious.

"Right now? I just left."

"Buddy. You have to lock her down before she figures you out and she'll run away."

And then he hung up.

I don't know why I listened to him.

But I did.

Why was I so fucking nervous? My fingers were almost shaking as I pulled up her number.

She answered with a hesitant _hello_ and I realized that she didn't know who I was.

"Hey, it's Austin. I know I just left, but..."

She giggled, actually giggled, and the sound somehow effected my heart rate almost even more than when I had seen her naked.

"So, I was thinking that you should really get a new mattress. The one you have is extremely uncomfortable."

"Is that so?" I could tell that she was trying not to laugh.

"Yeah. So what are you doing today?"

"You."

I was hard again, walking down the now much busier daytime street, quietly wondering if anyone could see the enormous hard-on that was forming in my pants.

Not that I really cared.

This was _Miami_.

People had probably seen much worse.

"So, meet me at the store? Lunch time?" My voice was a bit squeaky.

"I'll bring food."

I gave her the address and hung up with a smile, before I almost ran home.

I needed to shower. And change my shirt.

It smelled like _sex_ and beer and teen spirit at that point.

I made it to work right on time, opening the store and waiting for the usual flood of customers to overwhelm me with work. Or not.

It took half an hour before the first people entered, and I sighed as I recognized them. It was an elderly couple who had been there every fucking Sunday since Obama was in diapers, and they had never, not once, actually bought anything.

I dutifully walked them around, answering their too many questions before, half an hour later, letting them out and letting _her_ in.

Talk about good timing.

I kissed her, like I hadn't seen her for months rather than hours.

She kissed me and told me that she's here to stay.

For lunch.

Something smelled delicious, but it wasn't the Italian takeout that she had brought along.

It was _her_.

I kissed her, again, walking us towards the back of the empty store, my hand moving in under her skirt, and I quickly realized that she wasn't wearing underwear.

I just looked at her.

"Oops." She didn't sound that sorry.

Trouble, indeed. And I was getting into it.

"So, show me what you got..." She was clearly and actively trying to drive me insane.

"What?" My voice sounded like a croak.

"Mattresses?"

Right.

I started the tour that I had done many times before, yet never enjoyed as much.

"What about this one?" I pointed to a nearby mattress.

"I might have to try it out."

She laid down on it, spreading her legs and flashing me her underwear free parts and I had never moved that fast in my life, I was sure of it, my body covering all of hers as I kick-started the next round in hour insane day-long series of make-out sessions on top of the back-of-the-store display mattress.

I couldn't have enough of her.

I needed to take her again.

I flipped her around, flat on her stomach, pulling her skirt up while revealing that ass of hers, then quickly pulling my pants down, pushing into her in one harsh blow, soon fucking her, her ass bouncing up against me each time I plunged into her, the feathers in the mattress making a squeaky noise and her back arching off of it each time as I tugged on that beautiful hair of hers, over and over, and I'm not going to pretend that the thrill of possibly getting caught didn't make it even better, although that was close to impossible.

I wrapped my hand around her, finding her clit, and her wetness increased even further as I rubbed her, my dick twitching as I was keeping still, feeling her cumming undone under my touch while I was sheeted deep inside of her, her pussy contracting around me in and I pumped her hard until I came, too,releasing inside of her while trying to control my orgasmic growls.

We laid there fore a minute, breathing hard, before she turned to me and smiled. "Yeah, I'm _not_ getting that one."

"Why not?"

"Too loud."

I laughed. "Guess you'll have to come back to check out the rest of them, then."

She nodded. "I'll _cum_ back, for sure. I got to go now, though."

We got up, and soon we were decent again, although her only semi-so, and as I hugged her goodbye, I couldn't help but ask.

"What are we doing?"

It sounded more serious than I had intended, and even more so since we had _just_ met the night before.

"Having fun?" She smiled, a questioning smile on her face.

I nodded.

We were.

I walked her towards the exit before I kissed her again, pressing her up against the glass door of the store, making out with her and wanting to get back in her, until we almost fell out of the store when the door flew open, and the second elderly couple of the day entered.

She giggled as she moved to leave, and I watched her as she walked away, a bit annoyed with the intruders.

I mean customers.

Oh, please.

It wasn't as if they were going to _buy_ anything anyways.

It really didn't matter, though, because _damn_, that had been the best shift I had ever worked at the store.

Even if I hadn't sold anything.

She made a small gesture towards her ear with her hand once she was a few steps away, as if she knew I was still watching her, then screaming something over her shoulder.

"Call me."

And I knew I would.

And I did.

Just a few minutes later.

...

It took a couple of months.

Not for me to _fall_ in love, but for me to realize that I was.

We had seen each other, all the time, frequently and still not frequently enough.

Sunday work shifts were suddenly _much_ funner than they had ever been beofre, and by then we had probably pretty much fucked our way through the entire store stock.

I had visited her at work a few times, too, our chosen activities ranging from fucking on the store front counter, to writing a song together that I just knew was going to be a hit.

For some weird reason, it seemed like she kind of liked me as much as I liked her.

I had asked her once if she was crazy.

"_About_ _you_" had been her simple answer, and after that, we had been pretty much inseparable.

Life before her slowly faded away into distant, almost blurry memories, good ones, but the ones we were making together were so much better.

And then there we were, in my not so tidy apartment, having just finished lunch (pickles and pancakes, duh).

It wasn't a big moment, or anything, nothing out of the ordinary.

We were sitting on my couch, my arm wrapped around her, and I was smelling her hair while trying to make sure that she didn't notice, although I knew she probably did.

She suddenly laughed, loudly, at something funny in the movie that she was watching and I wasn't, and I just knew.

I loved her.

How did we end up here?

I wasn't entirely sure.

Maybe you could call me lucky, cause in the end, although I was a six and she's a ten, she was _mine_.

And despite the fact that I was now wearing a different shirt, and Kurt was currently resting on the bottom of the still growing and therefore now even larger laundry pile, I was unquestionably in my own personal Nirvana.

Because I was with her.

...

_**Ahhhhh, this took forever and a day for me to complete. Hope you liked it!**_


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